


Common First Words

by tuesday



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 17:13:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17349278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesday/pseuds/tuesday
Summary: Soulmate AU: first words.--"Hello, Mr. Parker."  The words graced his arm, and they popped up individually or in pieces incorrectly paired until the day Mr. Stark appeared in his living room.  It didn't hit Peter then, not at first, simply floored by the presence of Tony Stark sitting in his living room and chatting with his aunt like it wasn't deeply, deeply weird for him to be there.Peter stumbled out a question framing his curiosity, his disbelief, only barely remembering to end on an introduction of, "Um, ah, I'm—I'm Peter."Mr. Stark's charming smile froze on his face.  "Right.  Peter.  Peter Parker."  Whatever it was, he shook it off after a moment and said, "I'm here to talk to you about the internship.  The one you applied for."





	Common First Words

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alexisriversong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexisriversong/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Распространенные слова](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17561513) by [STARKER_Russian_fandom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/STARKER_Russian_fandom/pseuds/STARKER_Russian_fandom)



> This was me jumping the gun and writing something for someone for Chocolate Box before assignments were even out, then deciding to gift it to her outside of the exchange. Thank you to alexisriversong for prompting and being willing to just take the gift, and thanks as always to Strozzzi for being a listening ear for this fandom.
> 
> Content advisories: CNTW is just me covering my bases. There is zero underage in this. IW happens, but is immediately fixed, both of which happen in a brief reference. Peter still meets Tony at fifteen, and they are soulmates.
> 
> If you have any questions about content, feel free to ask.
> 
> Also, there's some brief, casual Peter/MJ in this.

The first part to Peter's words was almost depressingly common even in a world where people tried to watch what they said when first meeting another person. "Hello," a variation on a theme that decorated roughly one in three people's arms. The rest provided more of a clue, though a limited one. Who was going to call him "Mr. Parker"? A job interviewer? A police officer knocking at his door to deliver bad news? A teacher or professor who already knew him from the enrollment list?

"Hello, Mr. Parker." The words graced his arm, and they popped up individually or in pieces incorrectly paired until the day Mr. Stark appeared in his living room. It didn't hit Peter then, not at first, simply floored by the presence of Tony Stark sitting in his living room and chatting with his aunt like it wasn't deeply, deeply weird for him to be there.

Peter stumbled out a question framing his curiosity, his disbelief, only barely remembering to end on an introduction of, "Um, ah, I'm—I'm Peter."

Mr. Stark's charming smile froze on his face. "Right. Peter. Peter Parker." Whatever it was, he shook it off after a moment and said, "I'm here to talk to you about the internship. The one you applied for."

Somehow, Peter ended up in his bedroom, arguing with Mr. Stark about whether he was Spider-Man and getting his own costume thrown in his face. Somehow, Peter ended up agreeing to go to Germany even though he'd never been out of the country before. Somehow, Peter ended up curled up on the tarmac of a foreign airport in a brand new Spider-suit made by Tony Stark with his face in Mr. Stark's hands as he insisted on checking Peter's pupillary response after the fight was finally over.

"I'm okay, Mr. Stark," Peter said.

"I'll be the judge of that," Mr. Stark said. Even once he'd accepted that Peter probably didn't have a concussion, he kept his hands on Peter's face for far longer than Peter thought was probably normal for a teammate or some strange kid picked up along the way.

That was the point Peter first wondered, first thought about Mr. Stark's own first words.

—

Some things happened after that: superhero things, high school things, world-ending things. Peter kept the suit and lost the suit and got the suit back in a paper grocery bag like an oversized packed lunch. He tried dating a few people like the rest of his classmates, most of whom hadn't met their soulmates yet and didn't expect to anytime soon. He was trapped in an infinity stone along with half of the rest of the universe. Just, y'know, things.

When Peter came back like half the rest of the universe, Mr. Stark pulled him back into the arms he'd died in and held on. Awkwardly, hesitantly, Peter rubbed Mr. Stark's back.

"I'm okay, Mr. Stark," Peter said.

"I'm not," Mr. Stark said. He held on for a long, long time.

—

Peter went to college, like many kids his age. His first RA greeted him, "Hello, Mr. Parker," and Peter dropped his welcome packet.

The RA's eyes widened. He stared almost expectantly. Peter made it easy on him. (He did his best to make it impossible.) "My name is Peter Parker."

The RA slumped in something like disappointment, something like relief. He helped Peter collect his papers. "Johnny Storm. Sorry for the formality. They really ride our—uh, they get on our cases if we're too casual. Welcome to Reed Hall. Get your roommate contract back to me by the end of the week."

They talked briefly and went their separate ways. Peter's roommate greeted him with a long, slow blink and a tired, "S'up?" Peter was pretty sure he was high. All the same, Peter was glad to meet him.

Soon after Peter started classes, Mr. Stark called to check up on him. "Hello, Mr. Parker. How are you settling in?"

"I'm okay," Peter said. He leaned back in his dorm desk chair, which seemed to be designed for maximum discomfort to encourage maximum alertness while studying. "It's weird, but I think I like it."

"Good. Let me know if you need anything."

Peter rolled his eyes, confident in the safety of being a couple hundred miles away where Mr. Stark couldn't see it. Sometimes it was like Mr. Stark forgot Aunt May existed and had first and only claim to all the privileges and responsibilities of having been his guardian even now that he was eighteen. Still, it made Mr. Stark happy to think he could help. Peter lied, "I'll let you know."

—

College contained significantly fewer world-ending events than high school did—or maybe Peter wasn't around to know. Peter dated a few more people, though the pool got a little smaller as people found their matches. Late teens/early twenties was a good time for it. He kept his hand in the superhero gig, but mostly he focused on classes, loading up his time table where he could. Four years, he'd decided, was going to be his maximum.

He made it in three and a half, burning the candle at both ends and taking summer classes. A double Bachelor's was a good time to get out, but somehow he found himself with an acceptance letter to grad school, a combined Master's/PhD program, and the intent to attend.

"Get your doctorate early," Mr. Stark advised like he had anything to do with the decision. "Lord it over all the grad students twice your age."

"They're not that much older," Peter said.

"With your birthday, you graduated high school at seventeen."

"When I was born has nothing to do with it," Peter said.

"More than you'd think."

"Mr. Stark—" Peter was tired. He'd much rather sleep than have this conversation. "Never mind."

Mr. Stark was quiet. Peter would have wondered if Mr. Stark had hung up if he couldn't hear his breathing, the rustle of his clothes as he shifted, the rasp of his hand against his beard as he rubbed at his face. Eventually, Mr. Stark said, "I'm proud of you. You know that, right?"

Peter closed his eyes. He didn't want Mr. Stark's paternal pride. He said, "Thank you, Mr. Stark."

Mr. Stark hadn't asked, but Peter was beginning to think he wasn't okay. He'd only grown more sure over the years, less assured. He was twenty-one years old. He knew, he just knew, that he'd met his soulmate at fifteen. If something hadn't happened in the last six years, he was beginning to think it never would.

—

Three days into his grad program, the grad student who would be sharing office space with him for the next few years looked up with a smile and said, "Hello, Mr. Parker."

Peter didn't drop his box of files until he reached his desk, and then it was to carefully put them down. He said, "That's a terribly vague first greeting."

"Yeah, but a) I already have a soulmate," the guy said, "and b) what are the odds they'd ever be your words?"

"Better than you'd think," Peter said, but he let it go.

Peter tried to let the rest of it go, too. He didn't really succeed. His new office buddy went to get coffee—and Peter needed to get on actually learning his name, knew it was in the orientation information. Peter rested his head on his arms and tried to become one with his new desk.

He kind of wanted to call Mr. Stark, to listen to him tell him it would all be okay. It was a common lie, but it was well meant. If nothing else, Mr. Stark had always meant well.

—

It was ill-advised, but Peter got back into the hero gig on a regular basis. He balanced it with his teaching sections, his classes, grading, and the occasional attempts to sleep. The balance really wasn't weighted toward sleep.

He didn't have time to date, but MJ reappeared in his life as a friend and occasional hook-up. She wasn't his student, but she did smile as she said, "Is this going to get you in trouble with an ethics committee?"

"You're older than I am," Peter said.

"Does that really matter?"

Peter knew that his smile had gone oddly bitter, that it wasn't appropriate to the conversation at hand. "Not in my experience. Some people may feel different about it."

MJ put her hands on his face. She squished his cheeks as she said, "Whoever your soulmate is, they don't deserve you."

Peter thought, _Yeah. They deserve better._ He knew better than to say it, though.

MJ frowned. "I promise. You'll be okay."

Peter laughed, a sharp sound. He let MJ kiss it away.

—

There were some would-be world-ending events while Peter was in grad school, but he handled them for the most part, perfectly fine on his own. Mostly, though, those worries stayed out of his neighborhood, and he did his best to stay a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

For the most part.

Three days before he was meant to defend his thesis, Peter woke up in an unexpectedly comfortable hospital bed in a private hospital room with Tony Stark attending his bedside. Mr. Stark's eyes were rimmed red. His suit was slightly rumpled. Otherwise, he looked as perfect as ever. Even the increased salt in the salt and pepper at his temples looked as though it had been done by design.

"Hello, Mr. Parker," Mr. Stark said quietly when he saw Peter was awake. He reached over and traced callus-roughened fingertips across Peter's bare arm in a line underlining Peter's words. He ended at Peter's wrist and rested them gently over his pulsepoint.

Peter said, no prevarication, no ums or ahs, a finished sentence this time, "What are you doing here?"

"I came to make sure you were okay." The hand that wasn't on Peter's wrist came up to brush his cheek, a glancing touch. "Even if it was a one-way connection, that's all I ever wanted. For you to be okay."

Peter felt something seize in his chest. It felt terribly like hope. "One-way?"

"Well, you certainly didn't react beyond your already established celebrity shock when I spoke to you the first time, and I was the one who talked first. It was a reasonable assumption."

"Mr. Stark," and Peter didn't sit up only because he was still injured and really, really feeling it, "hello is a really common word, and that is not a reasonable assumption at all."

"I think, under the circumstances, I'd prefer you call me Tony. That okay, Peter?"

That was definitely okay. Peter couldn't sit up, but Tony leaned in for the both of them. His lips were soft. His beard was rough. When he sat back, his eyes were crinkled at the corners.

He said, "Get some rest. I'll wake you when the doctor or your meal tray gets here, whichever one arrives first."

As Peter drifted off again, he felt Tony's hand settle more fully over his wrist. Tony didn't let go.


End file.
